Gospel Story Finder

People in the poorer areas of the Barahona District of the Dominican Republic are smiling bigger and brighter since they got a visit from the local LDS Young Women. For a service project, the 35 girls gave them presentations on dental hygiene and other areas of good health.
The girls spent two weeks preparing posters and talks. They then divided into groups and went to four of the poorer neighborhoods in their area. They took turns explaining how to brush and floss correctly, the importance of washing hands, and how to make inexpensive cotton swabs and toothbrushes.
“I learned that we should serve our neighbors,” said Aracelis Rubel, 15, of the Dominican Republic. “When they need something, we can be there to help. I know God is happy with me because I taught many things and learned a lot.”

Lucinda looked at the note and shoved it to the bottom of her scripture bag.
“Lucinda has been asked to give a talk in Primary next week,” the note said.
Lucinda did not like giving talks. Standing up at the podium and looking out at all the children seated in the Primary room terrified her. She hated the way her voice shook and sounded so strange over the microphone. Even the little Sunbeams, she thought, did a better job.
Lucinda decided she would not show the note to her mom. If Mom didn’t know about the talk, then next week Lucinda could just tell Sister Fife that she had forgotten to prepare. It sounded like a good plan.
By Friday afternoon, Lucinda really had forgotten about the talk. As she sat in her room enjoying a new art project, she heard the phone ring. A few minutes later, Mom poked her head into Lucinda’s room.
“Lucinda, that was Sister Fife reminding you that you were asked to give a talk on Sunday.”
Lucinda flopped down on her bed. “I don’t want to give a talk,” she grumbled.
“But you always prepare such nice lessons for family home evening,” Mom said.
“But that’s with our family,” Lucinda said. “This is different. I get so scared speaking in front of everyone.”
“Heavenly Father will help you,” Mom said.
“But I’m still scared.”
“Well, if you really don’t want to do it, you’d better call Sister Fife and let her know,” Mom said.
Lucinda buried her face in her pillow. She was too shy to call the Primary president. That would be as scary as giving the talk. There was nothing else Lucinda could do. She got up and started writing.
All through church on Sunday, Lucinda worried about her talk. Every time she thought about it her stomach tightened and her heart started beating faster. Soon, she was sitting up front in the Primary room for Primary closing exercises.
Sister Fife called her name, and Lucinda walked to the microphone. She placed her talk on the podium and saw all the children and teachers. Lucinda’s hands shook. She said a silent prayer and opened her mouth, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Lucinda didn’t know what to do. She stood there, staring down at her paper.
It got very quiet in the room. It seemed like a long time went by, and Lucinda was frozen with fear. Then she took a deep breath and started to speak. The words of her talk began rushing out. Before she knew what had happened, it was over.
As Lucinda sat down, a warm feeling spread through her chest. She knew that Heavenly Father had helped her. And if He could help her get through a talk, He could help her get through anything.

A few years ago, I was one of a few Church members in my grade. People thought I was weird because I was dedicated to living all of the standards of the Church. So one day I decided that I could compromise my standards a little bit. When I did, I noticed that I had more attention from others. But after just a few weeks, I felt guilty and turned to the Lord for repentance. He did help me, and I had to make a lot of sacrifices, but it was worth it! I truly got to see the blessings of living the gospel at school. I did lose friends and attention, but I gained respect and happiness.
Sutton K., 15, Texas, USA

About this same time we had a neighbor who dominated and sometimes abused his wife. He roared like a lion, and she cowered like a lamb. When they walked to church, she always walked a few steps behind him. That made my mother mad. She was a strong woman who would not accept such domination, and she was angry to see another woman abused in that way. I think of her reaction whenever I see men misusing their authority to gratify their pride or exercise control or compulsion upon their wives in any degree of unrighteousness (see D&C 121:37).

Years ago, Sister Chieko Okasaki came to Ricks College as a devotional speaker. During the luncheon before the devotional she shared with us how in her life she had learned to place her afflictions on the altar of God and consecrate them to His service. For example, she said that things were difficult during World War II. She agonized over the treatment of her people, but decided to ask the Lord how she could turn over this pain to His will. The Lord taught her to use her ethnic background to teach the sisters of the church about the beauty of our diversity in a world-wide church, which she has done so well in her writings and her calling in the general Relief Society. She also had a very difficult time when she lost her husband, Ed. They were very much in love and very close, but instead of remaining alone in her grief, she began to visit other widows in her area to bring them comfort and understanding. Sister Okasaki was able to awake to the healing reality of the atonement in her life and allow the Lord to consecrate her afflictions, not only for her gain, but also for a great blessing in the lives of His other children.[34]

I came home from my mission with a desire to make that choice. I dated, and I learned a lot from some wonderful people, but things never quite seemed to click. Horror of horrors, I graduated from BYU single. I wondered if there was something wrong with me, but the only thing that was really wrong was that the time was not right. I needed to be in the same place as the other who would choose me. I needed to develop talents that would be attractive to her. I had to learn to distinguish between my own feelings and the confirming voice of the Spirit. But when the time was right, the choices were made, and calm, peaceful confirmation then followed. I made the best choice ever, and that has been a foundation for the greatest blessings in my life ever since.

Her question knocked on the door of my past—a door that I had carefully hidden away deep in a crevice of my mind. Memory and a deep feeling I hadn’t realized was there answered …
The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still very angry inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to Church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else, I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Diety; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further, “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

When my daughter moved to Bountiful, Utah, three years ago, we went out to inspect her new home. To my great disappointment, the backyard was too small to produce much of a garden. However, in looking over her back fence, I discovered a vacant lot that was for sale. I quickly made arrangements with the owner to purchase it. Now the Perry family has its own welfare farm. As a family we soon learned to appreciate the parable of the sower. The vacant lot had been used for years by good neighbors as a dumping ground for weeds, grass clippings, rocks, tree limbs, etc. Many hours of work produced only a small garden of minimum yield that first year. The next year more of the good soil was made productive with additional hours of labor. Now, the third year, all but a small hill at the front of the property is bringing forth an abundant harvest. It has removed from us the worry of food cost inflation, for we have been able to increase our yield much faster than food cost inflation has increased.

Let's explore one last principle. We live in a world that glorifies idols and champions. We appreciate those who are striving to be stronger, higher, and faster. But the strongest girl I ever saw was actually pretty frail and would have been no match in an athletic contest. No one would covet her young life, which was full of fear, confusion, and a deep self-loathing. It was during this time that she was being abused by her stepfather.

Millie was physically and sexually abused by her mother's second husband. He was not a nice guy, but we will leave his punishment to the powers that be. Millie wasn't interested in punishing anybody. She knew what pain is like and didn't want to be involved in giving or receiving any more of it.

When I met Millie, she was a young woman trying to understand what she had done to deserve such treatment. In her confused and painful thinking, she was certain that he wouldn't have done it without some provocation or enticement. He had told her that it was her fault. And grown-ups are always right, aren't they?

But Millie was strong even with that misplaced sense of responsibility for her traumatic circumstances. She was trying to fight her way out. She was trying to figure out how to live with the memory of the abuse and not be consumed by it. For some time, the best she was able to do was to label herself a victim. This was an important first step, realizing that she had been victimized and that it wasn't her fault, but for Millie it wasn't enough. She wanted freedom from the on-going victimization of the terrible experience. She wanted to somehow let go of it completely.

One day Millie was stunned by a thought-provoking passage from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. It reads, "The soul helps the body and at certain moments uplifts it. It is the only bird that sustains its cage." This came as a revelation to Millie. She could see that her body is sort of like a cage that surrounds the real Millie. If that is so, she wondered, then could it be that he was hurting the cage, but that the bird was not damaged at all?

Of course! He could beat the cage, he could abuse the cage, he could even break the cage, but he couldn't get at the beautiful bird inside. Even if he destroyed the cage, the bird would just fly free beyond his ability to afflict any more harm. He might frighten the little bird out of singing for a while, but he could not take away her song forever. With this insight Millie was liberated.

Millie stopped calling herself a victim. She ceased defining herself by what he had done to her. The abuse is something that happened to her it is not her. Millie is one of the strongest people I have ever met. The principle: Bad things may happen to me, but they are not me.

Elder Scott taught and lived by the motto “Do what is right; let the consequence follow.”4 That motto guided him in 1965 when, after receiving a call to serve, he told his boss he would be leaving his job to serve as a mission president in Argentina. His boss, a navy admiral, was angry. He said he would never to talk to him again and that Elder Scott would never again work as a nuclear engineer.
Two months later, Elder Scott gave his boss a Book of Mormon. His boss said he would read it and then surprised Elder Scott when he said, “When you come back … , I want you to call me. There will be a job for you.”5
In his navy uniform.
After his mission, Elder Scott worked as a nuclear engineering consultant until he was called to the First Quorum of the Seventy in 1977. In 1988 he was called as an Apostle. Fulfilling the call was one way he kept a covenant he had made years before: “When I was very young,” he said, “I made a covenant with the Lord that I would devote my best energies to his work. I have repeated that covenant throughout the years.”6
After joining the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in 1988.
Elder Scott taught how to cope with trials and receive guidance from Heavenly Father. He testified that when we face challenges like doubt, depression, sin, or abuse, we can find strength and relief through faith in Jesus Christ.
He also taught about the importance of making correct choices, that forgiving others heals painful wounds, that sincere prayer opens the door to heavenly guidance, that temple worship and scripture study bring peace and answers, and that marriage and family is central to God’s plan. His faith in Jesus Christ was firm, as was his hope in the blessings that would come in the future.

Let me share with you one of those lighter moments I think you can relate to. A couple of years ago, while visiting the southern islands of Mindanao for the purpose of organizing a stake from a district in General Santos, Sue and I had the following experience that I will never forget. On Sunday morning, while showering in preparation for our meetings, the water went off. I called to Sue and said, “Sue, the water has just gone off in the shower. Is there any water in the sink?” She checked and said that there was a slight dribble. I said, “Quick, put the dipper under and get me some water so I can get the soap off of me.”

As she did, she said, “The water has stopped in the sink also.”

So I proceeded to take the towel to wipe off all of the soap. After getting out of the shower, I turned to Sue and said, “What am I going to do? I haven’t shaved yet, and I didn’t bring my electric razor. I can’t go to Church without shaving.”

She looked at me and said, “Well, there’s still some water in the toilet. I guess you’ll just have to shave in the toilet.”

I said, “You’re kidding!”

She said, “What choice do you have?”

So there I was kneeling on the floor and shaving in the toilet. Her final remarks to me were, “I wish I had a camera to take a picture of this.”

I learned another lesson about yielding to the Spirit a few years ago. I had served in the young men's organization of a ward where my young family and I lived before we moved here. I became friends with the other advisors and scout leaders. We went on many campouts together, fended off affectionate group attacks from our deacons together and taught together on Sundays. This kind of experience can form a solidarity among young men's leaders that many of you men in this audience will experience, if you haven't done so. A short time after my wife and I moved from the ward, I received news that one of the advisors I had served with had died. I was confused because he was a young, strong and healthy man. One afternoon his young wife had come home, and discovered him lying unconscious upon their bed, and attempts to revive him were unsuccessful. Investigation revealed that the circumstances surrounding his death were suspicious. It was later discovered that somebody had entered his home and taken his life. Little else was known. My wife and I were shocked and saddened, and we had never experienced anything like this before and were uneasy as we prepared to attend the funeral.

Before the services, I was looking at pictures arranged by this young man's family in the lobby of the church building. It seemed such a senseless tragedy that he was gone, and soon I had allowed feelings of sadness and even anger to overcome me. I even carried these feelings with me into the memorial service.

As the funeral progressed, this young man's father spoke. He had been our Bishop and my wife and I had great admiration and affection for him. As he taught the plan of salvation, and the truths about a loving Heavenly Father the Spirit filled the chapel. This good man, speaking at his own son's funeral, taught us that regardless of the circumstances in which each of us leave this life, the most important thing is the condition we are in when we are called home to our Father in Heaven. As he spoke, I began to sense new and brighter thoughts and feelings begin to stir within me. As the Spirit ministered to us, I realized that I could actually feel peace. And for a very brief moment I realized I had a choice to make. It was a very pointed and powerful experience I had never been conscious before of making a choice on how to feel. I could either yield to the enticing of the Spirit or continue on a path of sadness and bitterness. At that moment, it was a conscious relaxation of resistance happening within me. As I yielded to the Spirit, my thoughts turned to the plan of Salvation, the grace of the Atonement and my own need to strive to become better during the time that I have left in my own life. I knew that Heavenly Father had all things before him.

A few days ago, I heard two accounts of God leading His children to safety on the coast of Thailand when that monstrous tsunami wave struck.

One was of people who accepted His apparently routine invitation to a Church meeting on a Sunday. The meeting was called by ordinary men who hold the priesthood of God. The meeting place was on higher ground, away from the coast. The people who gathered with the Saints were spared from physical death, while the places on the coast where they would have been were destroyed. As they were spared physical death, they were being strengthened against spiritual temptation and the wave of eternal tragedy it will bring to those who are disobedient.
The other account I heard was related to me by a Latter-day Saint who was led to safety by the Holy Ghost. He checked into a hotel on the ocean front in Thailand the day before the wave struck. He walked out on the beach. He felt uneasy. He went back to his hotel determined to check out. The hotel staff, I think worried that he didn’t like the hotel, pressed him for a reason. They only reluctantly agreed to his leaving. He moved to another hotel, away from the beach. It was on higher ground. Because of that, he not only survived but stayed to serve the survivors.
The Lord is anxious to lead us to the safety of higher ground, away from the path of physical and spiritual danger. His upward path will require us to climb. My mother used to say to me when I complained that things were hard, "If you are on the right path, it will always be uphill." And as the world becomes darker and more dangerous, we must keep climbing. It will be our choice whether or not to move up or to stay where we are. But the Lord will invite and guide us upward by the direction of the Holy Ghost, which He sends to His leaders and to His people who will receive it.

John Bennett Hawkins was in the Old Tabernacle on that day and answered the call to help. He was one of the hundreds of individuals in relief parties that set out from Salt Lake City. On the evening of October 21, the rescuer wagons finally reached the Willie camp. They were greeted with joy and gratitude by the frozen and starving survivors. This was the first meeting of John Bennett Hawkins and Sarah Elizabeth Moulton, who would become my great-grandparents.
The company was greeted by hundreds of Salt Lake citizens anxiously awaiting their coming and ready to help with their care. Gratitude and appreciation toward one of the young heroes who had helped save the Moultons from the grasp of death soon blossomed into romance and love for Sarah Elizabeth.
On December 5, 1856, amidst the happy wishes of her loved ones, Sarah Elizabeth married John Bennett Hawkins, her rescuer. They were sealed for time and eternity the following July in the Endowment House. They made their home in Salt Lake City and were blessed with three sons and seven daughters. One of those daughters, Esther Emily, married my grandfather Charles Rasband in 1891.

I have been remarkably blessed by the moral influence of women, in particular my mother and my wife. Among other women that I look to in gratitude is Anna Daines. Anna and her husband, Henry, and their four children were among the pioneers of the Church in New Jersey, in the United States. Beginning in the 1930s, when Henry was a doctoral student at Rutgers University, he and Anna worked tirelessly with school and civic organizations in Metuchen, where they lived, to overcome deeply rooted prejudice against Mormons and to make the community a better place for all parents to raise their children.

Anna, for example, volunteered at the Metuchen YMCA and made herself indispensable. Within a year she was appointed president of the Mothers’ Auxiliary and then “was asked to run for one of the three women’s positions on the YMCA board of directors. She won without opposition, and so joined the very council that only a few years before had refused to let the Saints meet in their building!”

In early 2002, while I was serving in the Relief Society general presidency, the Church instituted a security system that required those of us who frequented the extended Church campus in Salt Lake City– including Temple Square, the Conference Center, Church Office Building, Relief Society Building, and so forth–to wear ID badges. Because our presidency had served nearly five years, we were easily recognized, and I don’t remember ever actually using my new ID badge.

In one of the Saturday sessions of the April 2002 General Conference, our presidency was released, but we continued to come and go to that conference in the usual manner for General Authorities and general officers–through a series of pedestrian tunnels that connect the various buildings on the Church campus.

I had been assigned to speak early Sunday morning at a devotional for all of the General Conference hosts and hostesses, and I was to be in the Conference Center at 6 AM. As I drove to the Conference Center that morning, it dawned on me that heavy double doors located at various places along the tunnel might not be open that early.

Sure enough, the first door in the tunnel was locked. I noticed an intercom on the wall, pushed the buzzer, and asked the Church Security officer who answered if he would let me through the door. “Sister Dew, do you have your ID badge with you?” I thought but didn’t say, “You know who I am. Why do you need to see my badge?” but I rummaged through my binder and found the badge. The officer then said, “Just wave it in front of the sensor, and the doors will open.”

“Seriously. That’s fantastic! What else will this badge open?”

He laughed and said, “You have a high clearance. Your badge gives you access to most doors throughout the Church campus. Didn’t you know that?”

“Amazing!”

I was already wondering what else my badge would open when he brought me down to earth: “Wasn’t your presidency just released, Sister Dew?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, enjoy your badge today because tonight at midnight, it will be deactivated.”

As promised, my badge opened the doors through the tunnel, and also, as promised, the next day it no longer worked. The privilege was gone.

The irony was unmistakable. For months, I had carried with me a badge that gave me privileges I had never made the effort or took the time to understand.

To get to a remote branch in Saetsiwi on Tanna Island, Elders Nalin and Toa drove to and then hiked up a mountain for three hours, eating nothing but the coconuts they found along the way. But when they arrived at Saetsiwi, they couldn’t find the branch president. And then the rainstorm started.
Rain filled the rivers, which Elder Nalin knew would soon be impassable and dangerous. The elders got back to their truck as quickly as possible, knowing that they had to get off the mountain. The two missionaries crossed the first river safely, but at the second river, the truck got stuck. They pushed and even got others to help push, but the truck didn’t move.
Elder Nalin noticed another river flowing into theirs and just how much bigger it was. He later said, “Our river was still small, like it was waiting for us to get out.” But that wouldn’t last forever.
Both elders grew up in Vanuatu, where vehicles are usually rare and extremely expensive. So, for them, abandoning the truck didn’t seem like an option. But the water level was up to the door handles.
They called President Messick and asked what they should do.
President Messick replied, “Thank you for giving me a call. It’s OK! Leave the truck where it is and find a safe place now!”
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin faced challenges as they tried to reach the people on the island of Tanna who wanted to be baptized—including a sudden rainstorm that flooded the rivers they were crossing.
Elder Toa, the last one out of the truck, later said, “I looked in the back seat for my scriptures and the baptismal forms, and there was nothing. And I thought maybe Elder Nalin already took them.” If the forms were lost, the missionaries would have to go back to Éfaté to get new ones.
Then one of the people who had come to help started shouting. Elder Toa did not understand what he was saying. But Elder Nalin did since it was his native language. He yelled to his companion, “Get out of the truck, something is coming!”
Elder Toa climbed out the back door because the water had already reached the window in the front. The moment he got out, the river swept the truck downstream. As they watched the truck flow downhill, they could see the scriptures and baptismal forms in the back seat.
Elder Toa later said, “While we were still in the river, we called on the power of God to protect our scriptures and baptismal forms. We had faith that He could save them according to His will.”
“After our prayer, we knew everything was going to be fine,” Elder Toa later said.
The district president called and told Elders Toa and Nalin that the Saetsiwi branch president, the same man they couldn’t find earlier, had found their truck. The river had pushed it 820 feet (250 meters) from the main road, but while the engine was wet and the truck had to be towed for other repairs, the outside of the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. However, their lesson books, notebooks, and pamphlets were drenched and destroyed. “You could not read some of the words,” Elder Toa said.
But sitting on top of everything else, their scriptures and the interview forms were somehow dry and undamaged.
Though Elder Toa and Elder Nalin had abandoned the truck in the flooded river, it was later found. Though the engine needed repairs, the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. But most miraculous of all, the most important things they carried inside were undamaged.

Being the only members of the Church in their school gives the boys many opportunities to share the gospel, which they gladly do. Ieuan has invited his classmates to his baptism and other church activities. He and Richard play with several Korean children and are helping them practice their English. Richard has had some nice discussions about the gospel with a classmate. Since most of the children do not attend church, they often ask Richard why he goes to church. He gladly tells them about the gospel and invites them to attend church with him.

The cool evening air felt good on my face as my companion and I were frantically riding our bicycles back to our apartment to make it home on time. The May weather had been typical for Texas, hot and humid, so the crisp evening air was a welcome feeling.
I began thinking of the success we were enjoying in the city of Brownsville. A family of five was baptized last month and another family of five was to be baptized this month. Suddenly that warm, familiar, and welcome feeling came over me, and I was prompted to look back. Through the trees I saw a row of houses a little way off the road—houses I had never noticed before!
When we reached the apartment I told my companion, Elder Maughn, that we needed to go back to those houses in the morning and meet a few people. Then we planned our activities for the next day and went to bed. I could hardly sleep for the excitement of that day. We had challenged a family to be baptized, and they accepted, and now it seemed that the Lord had more people for us to teach.
The morning came not too soon for me. After a shower, breakfast, and study class, we headed out for the houses I had noticed the last night. It was easy to see why we had missed them before. Somehow between the junkyard and bushes and the low-hanging trees, there was a road. Actually, it was more like an alley. It was so rough that we could hardly get our bikes down it.
There were about seven houses down this road, so we began at the first and worked our way to the last. Yes, number six was the house. We knocked at the door, and a woman answered. Her face radiated with a warm, kind, and protective glow. We introduced ourselves and said we had a brief message about the Lord. She invited us into a small, two-room house.
As we entered the living room, we were greeted by no less than five children, ages ranging from eleven down to two. The children giggled as we spoke to them. We told her we would like to return when the father was home, and she invited us back that evening.
The rest of the day my head was spinning with thoughts of how we would teach the family. We knew with the Lord’s help and consent we would help this family become members of his church.
Somewhere between banging on doors and lunch a fearful thought came over me. Tithing! Reflecting back about that family we visited earlier that morning, I wondered how they would accept the principle of tithing. I thought of that family of seven and their home, which apparently had only the bare necessities. The kitchen had just a table and benches in it. The other room, which was divided in half and separated only by a curtain, was both the bedroom and the living room. The only furniture in this room was one chair and a tattered couch. How would this family be able to budget tithing?
Paying an honest tithe seemed to be a stumbling block to some of the people we had taught before, and I worried about this all day. Silently I prayed that this family would gain a strong testimony before we were to teach the principle of tithing to them.
Again the cool evening air felt good on my face as we rode back to that home to meet the father and begin teaching his family. The father held as many of the children as he could, and the others huddled close by. We felt a warm, familiar feeling as we visited with them and explained our message about the Lord’s true church.
After a brief prayer we started with the filmstrip Man’s Search for Happiness. It would keep the children interested, and parents always seemed to enjoy it. I glanced over at the mother during the part about leaving the pre-mortal existence, and I thought I saw traces of tears in her eyes. I couldn’t help but again glance over at her during the part about death and our spirit returning home to loved ones. Yes, this time it was plainly clear. That sweet mother had tears in her eyes and half way down her face.
The mother was still wiping away the tears when the film ended, so I quickly bore my testimony to the truthfulness of the concepts taught in the film and the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We then proceeded into the rest of the discussion. It was accepted well, very well. After arranging another appointment for the next night, we offered prayer and were on our way.
I noticed that there was no car in front of the house, and again I wondered how they would accept the principle of tithing.
When we reached our apartment, Elder Maughn and I knelt down and prayed. We prayed to our Heavenly Father to bless this family with a strong testimony and to provide a way that they could keep the commandments.
When we knelt for personal prayer I stayed on my knees a little longer than usual before climbing into bed. When the time came, how could we present the commandment of tithing so the Spirit would touch them with a testimony and a desire to keep it?
The family was progressing well. Every lesson was a spiritual experience for all of us. Members visited them and took them to church. Finally the challenge was given to be baptized, and they accepted.
The next step was the lesson on the commandments. I cleverly arranged it so my companion would present the concept on tithing. Yes, I would give the first concept, he the second which was tithing, then I would continue with the third and so on. This way I wouldn’t have to ask the family to keep the law of tithing and wonder about their answer.
That moment seemed to come all too soon. When we entered the home that evening and settled down for the lesson I began the discussion with the first concept. Before I had completed two sentences the father eagerly asked a question, and my companion answered it and continued on with my concept! He then finished the first concept, and now it was my turn—tithing! I said a quick silent prayer and proceeded with confidence.
I explained what the word tithe meant, how it was a commandment anciently and now also in our day. Then I came to the part I dreaded—to ask the family to keep the law of tithing. This fine brother answered back, but I was so worried that I didn’t hear the answer. I hurriedly continued on with the concept and then realized he had answered yes! I was then at the part where the question was to be repeated so I confidently asked again, “Will you keep the law of tithing?”
Again the answer was yes. I then bore my testimony with tears in my eyes that it was a true commandment and that many blessings would follow.
That following Sunday, just a week before the family was to be baptized, I looked eagerly for them. When Sunday School began, the family was not there. I didn’t see them anywhere. Perhaps they had decided they couldn’t keep the commandments after all, I thought to myself. I wondered if the problem was tithing.
Then just before sacrament meeting started, in through the front doors walked the family. I hurried to greet them. I had a smile on my face from ear to ear I’m sure. They explained that they had walked all the way, at least four miles I think, and the father carried two of the little ones.
We sat down in time for the meeting to start, and all I could think about was this family. What an example to me. I loved them already, and I had only known them for three weeks.
After sacrament the mother took me aside and said, “Here, Elder Myers. Here’s ten dollars. My husband gets paid every two weeks, and we wanted to start paying tithing now.” I stood there for what seemed like an eternity and just looked at the mother, with sincerity and humbleness written all over her face. I looked at the ten dollars. Her husband made two hundred dollars a month, and they were willing to keep the law of tithing. What a faithful family.
I guess I hesitated too long, for the mother said, “Isn’t it enough?” I quickly turned my head for tears began to fill my eyes. I found the second counselor in the bishopric and asked him to explain to this good sister about filling out the tithing slip.
As he explained the process to her, I slipped away to an empty room. I tried to hold back the tears, but “Here, Elder Myers” kept ringing in my ears. I thanked my Father in Heaven for this great opportunity and the testimony he had given to this family.
That following week the family was baptized.
Even now that I have returned home from my mission and have continued on with my life, I still think of this wonderful family and the great lesson they taught me about tithing. Every time I pay tithing I can still hear those words from that sweet sister, “Here, Elder Myers. Isn’t it enough?”

President Nelson told about how he operated on a baby patient who died. He went home and cried and said he would never do another heart operation. His wife helped him go back to work and keep learning. Eventually he was able to save President Kimball’s life because he had learned enough about heart surgery. The moral of this true story is, “Don’t give up!” Sometimes I want to give up, but I’m going to keep trying, like President Nelson.
Thomas T., age 8, Washington, D.C., USA